“Don’t turn around.”
He hadn’t heard anyone come in, and of course he’d searched the house for zombies before starting in searching for supplies. “Sure.”
“Got any .32 ammo?”
“Nope, only nine mil. And solid shells.”
“You’re wasting your time here, I cleaned this place out three weeks ago.”
“I always think someone should come up with chalk marks, like hobos used to.”
“Most of ‘em would be lies.”
“Sure.”
There was a long silence. Eventually he risked turning around; there was nobody there. He searched the house again, and found nothing. He was almost certain he hadn’t imagined it.
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